Threads of Destiny
by butterflyqvrs
Summary: The Threads that tie us one to another are as fragile as the wings of butterflies and as tenacious as the Love that is whispered from the heart. But threads can be cut...can they be spun anew?
1. Chapter 1

Threads of Destiny

A Bond Revealed

I was conceived in darkness. For nine months, I lay in the dark letting it grow inside me until I was finally able to shed the flawed vessel that carried me within it. There are times when I can still feel her essence clinging to me, covering my skin, suffocating me with her filth. I think I will go bathe.

When I am five, they tell me that I am now a brother. It seems they couldn't prevent themselves from breeding, disgusting animals that they are. The man, who I have been told to call Father, takes me to the hospital to show me this creature they are going to foist upon me. I have already decided that if it is objectionable that I will find some way to liberate myself of its presence. Father hands me a small, fragile bundle of life for me to hold and tells me that its name is Ritsuka…he is beautiful.

Ritsuka is perfect. Even in his newness, he is perfect. He is pink and soft. His eyes are an infant blue that are already starting to show hints of purple. His small head is topped in soft black fuzz and two small kitten ears. How is it that this tiny bit of wonder should come from the likes of them? He must be a miracle. I decide that I will keep him and that he will love me.

Years pass and I find that my brother is not like me. Where I am steeped in darkness, he shines with a light that warms even my cold heart; he blinds me with its brilliance. Why is it that I alone see how special, how unique, he is? I suppose I should not be surprised; the world is populated with ignorant creatures that are little better than chattel. All they see is a child that is free with his heart, what they do not see is how fierce and pure that love is and how it shapes the world around him. He has such power within him…and he loves me…but then he loves everyone. Ritsuka, I will find a way to have all your love for myself.

One of Father's collogues came to the house. He tells me that I am special, that I have a gift. I have always known that, I am somewhat surprised that any of these animals realized it. He tells me I am a Sacrifice and that I am to go to the School of the Seven Moons so that I might train to be able to use a Fighter. This school wants to give to me the means to destroy; I always knew that was my purpose, my destiny. It seems today my reason for being has found me and my heart swells in ecstasy at the thought of the destruction I will one day orchestrate. I will create a masterpiece of chaos.

I go to their school and they teach me what it is to be a Sacrifice. They tell me that I must learn to accept and withstand pain. I smile at them. I swallow the pain they give me, taking it into my darkness and distill it; one day I will return it to them in full thanks for their generous education. My teachers tell me that for every Sacrifice there is but one Fighter, that this Fighter is the other half of the Sacrifice's soul. How can this be? I am complete in and of myself. I have no need of anyone save Ritsuka and I know he is not a Fighter, therefore their premise is flawed. If they had told me that there is born but one tool, one weapon that was shaped by fate itself to be wielded by me; that I could accept. Apparently I alone, of all Sacrifices, was born whole, complete. I have always known I was special.

My teacher tells me that they have discovered my true name. They tell me that my name is **Beloved**. I should have known that the whore I have been told to call Mother and the cipher known as Father were too ignorant to name me properly. **Beloved**. I am beloved. Mother and Father both love me, but of what value is the love of one such as them. I am loved by Ritsuka. I think he is the source of my name. His love is the stuff of which miracles and the universe are made. I am **Beloved** of Ritsuka and that is all the more meaning I need. My Fighter, my waiting weapon, will bear my name as well. That is only appropriate; a trained dog ought to bear the name of its master so that all can see whose hand commands it. The name, **Beloved,** will make others quake in fear. It will be glorious.

Time passes. I go to their school and learn what they have to teach me and so much more. There is more to know than what they teach within the class rooms. They teach me to manage pain; I learn how to inflict it on another. They teach me to command, I learn how to crush the will of those who will not obey. I watch them and learn the artistry of deception, for all of them are liars and users. I am a vigilant student and they compliment me on my ability to find and exploit others' weaknesses. My teachers truly are ignorant and feeble minded. They fail to understand that I see the dross that they are made of. They will be so easy to break and they are the ones who taught me the way to do it.

When I am not at school, I am at home spending time with my Ritsuka. I watch him, study him, trying to figure out what it is that makes him a shining beacon in this world of drab grays. He alone is an enigma to me, a puzzle I have not been able to find the answer. I have not been able to find the answer to everything that he is but I have found some small clue that may lead me to an answer. My Ritsuka has a thread…it is fine and delicate and hides itself from view but every now and again it glows like moon light glinting off the silk of an abandoned spider's web. I feel if can find the meaning of this thread that is tied to my brother's soul, I will begin to understand what my brother is.

At the Seven Moons, I find the beginning of the truth. Who would have thought any truth might be lurking in that midden heap of lies and treachery? I ask my teacher, my advisor, if they knew what the meaning of a thread leading from the core of a person could be. My teacher smiled at me, pleased as if I am a precocious child that has spoken the answer to a complex question beyond my years. My teacher tells me that the thread I saw is the bond between a Sacrifice and their Fighter, that if I can see the thread then I can follow it to my Fighter. I am silent. I know that Ritsuka is not a Fighter. He is not capable of wanting to hurt anyone; he is a tender soul who loves all and will cry for their pain. No, he is not a Fighter…therefore he must be like me, a Sacrifice.

I have in my hand the beginning of Ritsuka's truth. He is a Sacrifice, one that I alone know about it. I will not tell my teachers what he is; they would only seek to bring him to the School and taint him with their teachings. I will not let them be the ones to leave fingerprints on his soul. When he learns the world is full of evil and darkness, it will be by my hand and mine alone. He belongs to me and I will not share.

Now that I know what I am looking for, I follow Ritsuka's thread, his bond. It takes me longer than I thought it would to find the Fighter who would dare to replace me in Ritsuka's affection. The bond is fragile and ethereal, there and perfect one moment and the next gone as if it never was; I am becoming annoyed with the thread's elusiveness. When I find this Fighter, I will make him pay for what he has put me through.

As I learn to follow his thread, I become aware of my own. My bond is not like the one tying Ritsuka and his Fighter, a shimmering bit of silk left over from the universe's creation, but a fine strand of nothing that soaks in the light and throbs with malevolence. I find my Fighter; I do not seek to know his name for it is not important. I can taste the quality of his soul and he will make an excellent tool; he was made for rending things apart. I am satisfied for now and leave him unclaimed, to be collected when I have need of him. I have another for which I am searching.

I find him at the School. He is a creature that is almost a legend within these walls. Agatsuma Soubi. He is the sole student of Minami Ritsu and he is beautiful. He is tall and elegant and fragile in his loveliness. He possesses flowing pale blond hair and eyes the color of sky after the clouds have wept themselves empty. Where Ritsuka would choose to love the world and share his love with all, this Soubi would give all his love to but one person; this Fighter would make that one person the God of his world. I can feel his need; he would try and take Ritsuka away from me. I will not let this happen, Ritsuka is mine and I will not share. I have decided that I will hate him.

I find all I can about this Agatsuma Soubi. He is a brilliant Fighter with a way with words and an eloquent spell-smith. He is without a Sacrifice. I already knew this because I know for a fact his Sacrifice is at home, playing the games children play and being admonished for not studying as much as he ought. No, this school believes that this Fighter is a blank slate; that he was born without a Sacrifice's name scribed on his heart. That may have been true when Soubi first came to the Seven Moons; there are few Sacrifices and Fighters with such a large age gap between them, a total of eight years. I guess the School's ignorance could be dismissed as understandable, but such an occurrence flies in the face of the tenants that are the founding principals of the School. I have decided that Minami Ritsu, Soubi's teacher, did not want there to be another who had prior claim on the soul that he has sullied with his teachings, with his touch, with his body; so Ritsu stopped looking for Soubi's Sacrifice to assuage his guilt, his sin.

It seems the School is searching for one to wield what Minami calls the perfect weapon. The teachers look for someone worthy to take the ownership of Agatsuma Soubi; they seek to give to another what is not theirs to give. I laugh at their ignorance and their hubris. They will learn to lament both of these sins. I petition to be given the Fighter. Who is better qualified than I to claim him? I am the top student in the Sacrifice side of the School and I have no Fighter that they are aware of. Besides all of that, I am the only one with a legitimate claim to this creature; I alone know his true name. I want him and I will have him.

The teachers question me about why I would seek to possess a Fighter not crafted for me. It seems they have concerns about my motivations. They ought to be wary; I will use this Soubi to practice for my masterpiece. I deceive them, using the art of half truths and lies I have learnt under their tutelage. I tell them, I know that somewhere there is a Fighter with the name **Beloved** waiting to be claimed by my hand, but I do not know, and neither do they, when that will occur. I ask them, does not every Sacrifice have a Fighter somewhere? If this is the only reason to bar me from taking Soubi, then it is a reason that applies to _all_ Sacrifices. I tell them, he is a Fighter without a purpose, a tool made useless for lack of a will to give him meaning. They will decide to give him to me; I can see it in the eyes of Minami.

I do not meet with Soubi before they give him into my possession. Why should I? The Fighter has no say in who he is given to and I am not interested in conversing with a mere tool. When I first enter Minami Ritsu's office, I find myself captivated by his décor. He was decorated his private space in death and lined his walls with corpses. The stilled bodies of butterflies hang in frozen splendor, each once a living creature now secured by a single pin thrust through its center. If this teacher were not my inferior in everyway, I might have come to admire his work. There are few that understand that to truly possess beauty; you must be willing to destroy it. It is within this beautiful macabre tomb that I am finally given Ritsuka's Fighter.

Agatsuma Soubi. He is lovely, the way that Ritsuka is lovely. There is a purity within him, a yearning to give his love to someone who would merely accept it. He would ask for nothing for himself, only that he be allowed to give everything he is and will be to one person. I hate him for it. Though the Fighter does not know it, Ritsuka is the one he seeks. I will not allow it. I will take this Soubi's love and offer him nothing. No, that is not true, I will give him my disdain and pain unlike any he has ever known. I will possess all that Ritsuka is, even if it means I must lay claim to this fragile creature. I will whittle on his soul until I reshape him to my liking. Ritsuka, if the School is to be believed, after today I will own half of your soul; will you give to me the half still in your possession?

I lead the Fighter from Minami's office. For me to truly own him, I must sever all other bonds that have prior claim on his soul. I take a knife and tell him that I will carve my name into him. I see no fear in his eyes. He wants to be owned; he longs to belong to _someone_. The thread that connects him to my miracle, my Ritsuka, pulses as if it is aware of what I plan to do. I press my knife into warm yielding flesh and feel the skin part so easily as I carve away Soubi's destiny. Beads of crimson turn to small steady streams as I cut the barbs into his throat that will hold what he is inside him and will bar another from entering; I imprison him alone within his soul. Filament by filament I cut through the thread that connects this creature to my Ritsuka. It is tenacious, this bond.

Miles from where I am, a small boy, who is playing innocent children's game, collapses giving voice to a scream that lies silent and trapped in the throat that is being inscribed with my purpose.

My knife cuts the letters of my name one at a time into flesh already stained red. I replace the name meant for this soul. Love. That was the name meant to be worn by this Fighter. There is no other name that could describe the sum of Ritsuka's soul. Soubi is not worthy of such a name; he is not worthy of _my_ Ritsuka. When I am done with him, I will leave him without the one thing he needs. I will leave him Loveless.

A/N I hope this will be the start to a multi-chapter story. Feed-back will determine if it will be continued. If you like it leave a review:)


	2. Chapter 2

**Threads of Destiny**

**A Bond Searched For **

I was sleeping when I felt it happen. The gaping _nothing,_ where once there was _everything,_ woke me to what was. One moment I was sleeping and the Fighter of **Beloved** and then I was awake and there was nothing…I was nothing. The thread that connected me to my Master, to Seimei, was simply not there, as if it had never existed, seared away by a fire I knew nothing about.

He didn't even call out to me. I would have come, no matter where he was; I would have come to him. Now, Seimei is gone and I am alone.

Alone. Again. Empty.

The week before this, Seimei issued me an order. Should anything happen to him, I was to belong to his younger brother, Aoyagi Ritsuka. He told me that Ritsuka is a Sacrifice and that his brother name is Sans Amour, Without Love…**Loveless**. Seimei told me that I was to love him, protect him, but tell him nothing of the Seven Moons. Seimei must have known something that I didn't but he, as always, kept his secrets. I did not question him. It was an order. My Sacrifice may command me as he wishes; it is not for me to question.

Seimei is gone but his orders are still here for me to follow. I now belong to Loveless…

And so I wait. I wait to be collected. I wait for my new Master to come for me. I wait day after day in vain. Why is it that no one wants me?

Kio comes to my apartment. He read about Seimei's death in the newspaper and he wanted to check up on me. I stare at him uncomprehending. What is there to say? I am lost…I have no master to give me orders, no one to protect, no one to live for. I think I want to die or maybe I am already dead. I do not know any more and I do not want to know. Why do I still exist? Even if I should want to act on these thoughts, I cannot. I do not belong to myself. Seimei left possession of me to another. Why am I always given away to strangers?

Kio fixes me dinner. I hadn't realized he was still here. He talks to me as he moves around the apartment…he talks at me. His voice is soft and laced with concern. The sound of his voice helps hide the echoing silence within. This silence, it deafens me. Will I never again hear another's voice whispering my name within my heart?

Kio tells me that I must take care of myself. That I must eat and that I must take a bath. He coyly offers to help me. His ever present flirtatious smile falters and dies as I wordlessly go to fill the bath. He is not my Master but I want, _need_, someone to give me to give me an order, to give me structure, that I will obey even his kind-hearted demands. I will let him tell me what to do until my new Owner comes for me.

Kio makes me go through the motions of living. At his insistence, I eat, sleep and go to class. When I return home at the end of each day, he will not let me stare at my empty blank walls. The walls remind me of what I am, a blank slate waiting to be filled with something, anything. Kio speaks softly to me and puts a canvas in front of me as well as several dishes of paint. He pulls my hair back and loosely secures it in a ponytail. He tells me to paint and so I do. The white of the canvas slowly is stained with the colors of my emptiness. Blues and purples and darkest black somehow find there way on to the stretched fabric to give voice to my helplessness. When I am done and the canvas is no longer empty, I stop. I look down on what I have painted and see a fragile butterfly hovering just above the dew covered petal of a flower. I should have known…

Days stretch into endless night to melt into merciless days and still I am left abandoned. Am I so without value that I am not even worthy of collecting? Ritsu calls my cell but I do not take his calls. I know what he wants. He wants me to come to the Seven Moons; he wants me to return to him. I do not belong to him, once I did, but he gave me to another and now, yet again, I am given away. I would rather have my silence than listen to his voice.

Two months have passed since the day my Master was found dead, burnt beyond recognition in his brother's classroom. Two months of me waiting, existing, but I am done. Seimei gave me into his younger brother's ownership. My Master was only seventeen when our bond was seared away to ash; Seimei's brother is younger than him by several years. I once saw a photo that Seimei kept of himself and his brother; I asked about Ritsuka, I had never seen Seimei willingly let another person touch him but in the photo the two held each other close. I was back-handed for my insolence…Seimei never had been one to answer questions. I tear myself away from my memories, back to the present, and to what is important; if Ritsuka is that much younger than Seimei, might he be _unable_ to come for me? If he can not come for me, then I must go to him.

It is not as easy as I thought it would be to find Aoyagi Ritsuka. It seems that after Seimei's death, his family moved. While I was waiting, the world did not. I learn that my new Master is going to be transferring schools that he will be attending a public school that is not far from where I live. The Fates, for once, appear to be taking mercy on this abandoned Fighter. Tomorrow will be his first day at his new school; tomorrow will be the day I go to meet my new destiny.

All day, I can feel this thing building inside me as I watch the clock, waiting for class to be dismissed. Kio is casting me questioning looks, which earn him a tiny smile, as students pack up their books and head for the door. The green haired man's eyes widen is surprise at the small curve of my lips. He calls his pet name for me in that sing-song way of his, as if the barest hint of a smile from me has made him happy. He looks shocked as I throw my things into my bang and hurry towards the door with purpose…it is good to have a purpose. He calls out to me; he bids me wait, but I am to meet my new Master today. I tell him I will see him later. As I hurry to my apartment to stow my things, I marvel at this feeling inside me. It has been so long since I felt anything, I do not even know what to call it…I, who have a word or phrase for everything, am left speechless.

I go to my new Master's school, an elementary school. I was right to come to Ritsuka, he is only twelve years old; it would have been difficult for a child to come for me…Seimei, you gave me to a child… I nervously light a cigarette, after cigarette, as I wait for the bell to signal the end of school. What is Ritsuka like? Is he like Seimei? I feel my stomach clench in fear and anticipation at the thought. Seimei was my God and I, his willing supplicant, but he was brutal and terrible in his justice when I could not meet his exacting standards. I grew to fear what he was capable of doing, what he was capable of having me do at his command…but he completed me. I have never been so completely controlled as when I was owned by **Beloved**. Will this child be willing to possess me the way I yearn to be?

I hear the bell sound and children dash from the building, calling and laughing to each other. I smile indulgently at their innocence and their joy. I don't see Ritsuka yet…I know that I will know him when I see him; the feeling that is still un-named builds within me yet again. And then I see him…a child, a boy small for his age, running towards me with silky ink-black hair and perfect cat ears perched on his head. I hold my breath, my heart racing as swiftly as his feet carrying him ever closer to me; is he running to me? No, he isn't even looking at me; he is about to run past me…I reach out and catch his arm…

He is crying? What could make the brother of Seimei cry? He is looking up at my with Seimei's eyes, the same lilac eyes, and shouting his denial of the very same tears that spill down his cheeks. How is that he does not know of me? His confusion is clear and his suspicion tangible. How do I explain what I am, who I am, to a child ignorant of what it is to be a Fighter or a Sacrifice? Oh, Seimei, you always did love your secrets…

When I mention Seimei's name his suspicions melt away and he beams at me. He takes hold of me. My new Master grabs hold of me…of _me_! He doesn't slap me…he doesn't hurt me…He asks me to make memories with him. No one has ever asked me to make memories with them before. He takes me to a park and takes picture after picture with a digital camera of the two of us. It is a pleasant way to spend the afternoon, but there is so much I need to tell him. I know the School will be coming for him soon…and I am certain, that if anyone had a hand in Seimei's unnatural death, it must be the Seven Moons. I need to talk to this child, try and make him understand…but Seimei left orders, I may not tell Ritsuka anything of the School.

We sit across a picnic table from one another. The small boy contemplates his digital record of our day with the same intensity that I give to studying him. Ritsuka…my new Master…who are you? What are you like? What will you want from me? I have my orders from Seimei and they will be obeyed…I will fight for you. I will protect you. I will love you…I will find a way to make a bond with you. I will give you all that is in my heart, if you will but lend me even the smallest part of your strength, and let me carry your name.

My lack of ears seems to bother him…I run my hand through my hair as I try and remember what having ears felt like; I lost them so long ago. I try to reassure him that I am not going to hurt him, I will not take anything from him…all I seek is a connection. I need a bond; I _need_ to belong to him. Before I know what I am doing, I am leaning across the table to cup his delicate face in my hands…my lips press to his in a chaste kiss…and it is so sweet.


	3. Chapter 3

**Threads of Destiny**

**A Bond ?**

A simple kiss. A mere brushing of soft lips one across another. So innocent and so unexpectedly sweet. A single perfect moment that seems to last forever as the universe stills and holds its breathe in wonder…

…And then he is pushing me away. Ritsuka, he doesn't hit me; he just pushes me away in surprise and confusion. He looks at me with those huge blue eyes that look so much like Seimei but are so filled with emotions. I take the hand pushing me away to bring it to my lips. I kiss the hand that will control me. This is the hand that will wield me. I came seeking a connection, to be tied to this stranger. I want that…I _need_ that. I do not want to be lost and alone anymore…

He seems to think I want to take his ears! He casts accusations and childish names at me as he looks at me with such suspicion and with cheeks stained pink with some emotion I can't name. I smile in amusement. He is a…child. For a heartbeat the past assaults me, once again, I can feel my cheek pressed to the glass on a display case as greedy hands slide my pants to the floor and a soft voice behind me commands me to be silent…I push the past away from me as I look into lilac colored eyes. No, I could never do that to him…_never_. I try to tell him that I couldn't…I wouldn't…and then I see those eyes of his…and I can't say it…I find myself telling him, not now…maybe when he is older. It isn't a threat and he doesn't seem to take it as one. It has all the flavor of a promise, an oath between Fighter and Sacrifice, and I am the one the one that seems disconcerted by that.

I want to explain to him what I am. I need to explain to him what he is…what I need for him to be to me. I grope for the words to describe what it is to be a part of a Fighting Unit. It is a bit like trying to describe an orange to some one who has never seen or tasted one before. I barely remember a time before the Seven Moons, a time when I was not a Fighter. To add to my difficulty in explaining what is like breathing to me, I have been forbidden to speak of the School to him; I struggle to tell Ritsuka what his future holds when they find us.

Too soon! This is too soon! How did they find us? He doesn't understand! He isn't able to _fight_! The Fates must be laughing at me again. The Fighter Unit that is coming towards us is weak; I can feel that much from here. I turn to Ritsuka and tell him now he will begin to learn what was responsible for taking Seimei away. Maybe this is the best way for Ritsuka to be introduced to this new world that he will have to be a part. I see them approaching us…they are children, the same age as my new Master. I will be able to protect Ritsuka. He might be afraid and confused but I can shield him from what it is to be a Sacrifice for a little while longer. He does not need to learn about that kind of pain today_. _No, not today.

The battle is short and I didn't have to hurt the little ones too badly before I sent them back to their owners. The School must not have known that I have been given to Ritsuka. If they had known I was going to be here, they would have sent someone more powerful to steal my Master away. They know now…things are going to get more complicated. I hold him in my arms, just to feel his slight body against mine and that simple contact warms me from within, like I am drowning in light. He is so confused and more than a little afraid. He wants me to let him down and I clutch him tighter to me; I do not want to let him go. I promise him I will explain it to him later…I put him down reluctantly then bid him good-bye. Before I can give in to temptation and pull him close again; I leave without looking back.

I go home to my apartment to think. I pull out a cigarette and light it as I stare up at my ceiling. Ritsuka is nothing like I thought he would be; he is nothing like Seimei. Seimei was calm and so very polite and his eyes always cold and assessing. My previous Master never lost his temper or raised his voice; he certainly never made volatile statements, only precise orders and lazy proclamations. Even as he gave me commands to do…things...terrible things…his voice was always so kind and filled with understanding. Seimei was so…controlled and controlling.

Ritsuka is all emotion. He makes rash, angry statements. He cries. He is a tempest of doubt and anger and so many other things. His eyes…Ritsuka eyes…so filled with want, with a hopeless need…just begging someone to answer his silent plea…those eyes call to some broken thing within me. I want to be the one to fill that need. I take another drag of my cigarette and give a disparaging little laugh. I am just a weapon, an easily discarded, flawed tool. I would only taint him in someway if I tried to answer that call but just once I want to be everything to my Master. I will give Ritsuka everything I am…my heart, my body, my soul…but can I have just a little bit for me alone? I take one last long pull on my cigarette, feeling the smoke fill me, before I snuff out the smoldering butt in my ash tray. There is no use thinking about this. He will do with me what he will and I will have to accept that.

I need to get back to work. Kio is going to scold me in the morning at class. I am half surprised he wasn't waiting for me in my apartment when I got back from my encounter with my new Master. I smile at the thought of the pierced man; he is good friend…even if he does want me for my body. I smirk to myself as I pull my hair up into a ponytail to get it out of my way. I could never sleep with Kio. He means too much to me, unlike the number of faceless women who have found their way in and out of my bed when I can't face another night alone. Sometimes it confuses me how such a bright little poppin' jay like Kio came to be one of the only people I feel I can depend on when things go wrong.

I lay a fresh canvas out and look at it. The fabric is stretched taut across boards and empty, waiting for someone, anyone, to take up a brush and spill color and meaning across its face. I smile to myself as I watch the subtle flexing of the fabric in the middle of the canvas as if it is holding its breath waiting for me to breathe life into it. A new canvas for a new start. I select my paints with unusual abandon. Something soft, something warm…pinks and bright greens…yellows and golds…I want to paint the warmth that lingers inside me. The heady smell of paint blends with the ever present scent of cigarette smoke and I feel something healing inside.

I work late into the night, my brushes gliding across the fabric as soft fragile beauty slowly unfurls layer by layer with each passing of the soft bristles. I sit back and know I must stop. If I add even one more stroke of the brush, all I would be doing is taking away from what is there. A pair of butterflies dancing above a lush blushing peony bathed in first rays of mornings light. For once, I look at the butterflies and feel no disdain, a bud of…hope? Possibility? I do not know what to call it but I know I feel it as I look at my painting. I wonder what Ritsuka would think of it? Somethings, only time can answer and it is late; I turn off the lights and prepare for bed. I will get to see my Master tomorrow.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N-** When I started writing this, I had no intentions of threading on Loveless' toes. I mean no disrespect and I hope none is taken. I obviously do no own Loveless.

**Threads of Destiny**

**A Bond Plucked**

Sleep…Through out my life, it has been both my haven and my prison. When my body is aching with unspeakable pain, I have fallen willingly into its dark embrace. There is a solace there I have never been able to find when I am awake. Sleep can be as seductive as a lover or as dangerous as a drug that beckons to the weakness within that begs for escape. Either of these addictions is preferable to being caught within its velvet cage, held an unwilling prisoner, as memories that I have denied play out in an endless loop behind my shuttered eyes.

I awake with a nearly silent gasp, as I break free of my dark jail. My eyes slide open and the world comes into soft focus, the hard edges blurred to an impressionist's painting until I manage to perch my glasses before my imperfect eyes. The room snaps into sharp focus as I stare at my ceiling. I reach out for the nightstand beside my bed and my fingertips find my cigarettes, singling one from the box I bring it to my lips then light it. I draw the acrid smoke deep into my lungs, holding it there as I shuttle the unnecessary past back into the box it crept from while I slept. When my cigarette is nothing more than ash clinging to its former shape, I rise to start my day.

After a quick breakfast, I reach for the roll of bandages I use to wrap my throat each morning. Only a small scrap of gauze clings to the remains of the roll, barely enough to wrap my throat once, but not enough to shelter my scars from the gawking of the ignorant. I brush my fingers over the ridges of the name carved into my flesh. What will Ritsuka do to mark me as his own? I shudder at the remembered pain of Seimei's claiming. To be reborn…it is not meant to be painless, is it? I sigh as I pull the thin veil of gauze tight around my throat and secure it, the dark, raised, scars a visible shadow lying plainly through an inadequate façade. I drop the spent roll of bandaging into the trash bin. A turtleneck, today, I think. I find a black turtleneck to slip into before I finish dressing. Luckily, the days are starting to turn cool again. I grab my school supplies and pull my striped scarf loosely around my neck before leaving my apartment. I will need to go shopping before returning home tonight.

Kio ambushes me as I try to enter class. One moment I am walking and the next I am being captured in a hug from behind, almost stumbling with the force of the impact. He is all wide eyes and questions wrapped around a lollipop stick. I can't help but smile at his antics. He tries to hide his delight at my 'recovery', but I can see the fear ease from his face. I will never understand why this little poppin' jay of a man decided to attach himself to me as my friend, regardless of what I wanted, but I am grateful. I do not know if I would have made it to Ritsuka side without his care…I push that thought away to join the others that I keep locked away in the dark nooks of my mind. Instead of dwelling on the past, I join Kio in his playful flirtations, teasing and jesting as the lingering worry falls from the petit man's shoulders. We make our way into class together.

Class passes quickly as we are lectured on the use of lighting as an emotive tool. I cannot help a slight twitch of scorn at the thought of this particular sensei lecturing _us_ on instilling emotion into a painting. I listen with only half an ear as I think about the conversation I must have with my new Master. After the last skirmish, Ritsuka will have even more questions than he did before, I have some of the answers he seeks…many of them…but I was ordered not to speak of so many of the things he needs to know. Seimei, are you laughing at me?

I am pulled from my thoughts as the lecture ends and the teacher pulls the cloth away from a still life set on the table in front of him. We are given our assignment, complete two separate drawings of the still life depicting two different emotions. I stare at the fallen vase, chipped, and flawed, lying on its side and pause. It is an unremarkable thing, battered and easily discarded. I scowl at the teacher's choice of subject, unimaginative and obvious in the response he wishes to obtain. I dutifully take up my charcoal and sketchpad and begin to draw. Clean simple lines…the shadows falling here and here… with a few strokes of the velvet, black stick; I sign my name at the bottom of the sketches then carefully affix them. I join the queue of students to turn in my work in to be later dissected by one unable to accomplish the task he had set us to do.

Kio chatters at me about the upcoming exhibition as I look up at the clock hanging in the class studio. The other students, who are also part of the show, flock to his side, drawn by his dramatic gestures and boisterous ways. I stand apart from the merry group. They are all so worried about deadlines and so many others' opinions, so wrapped up in their mundane problems and their narrow worlds. I feel as if I am a trespasser in a strange land with Kio as my native guide. I look at the clock again; it is almost time to leave to collect my Master from school. Time to return to the world I have always known.

I collect my things and give Kio a brief wave before slipping out the door. The small be-ringed man squawks at me indignantly as I smirk at him in amusement. Nothing is as important as Ritsuka. I flip my phone open to check the time and hurry to his elementary school. I arrive with enough time to spare to smoke a cigarette to help settle my nerves. The smoke swirls over my tongue, leaving its flavor behind, before it fills me and I feel some of the tenseness leave my shoulders. What will he say to me? What will he ask me? What will he ask of me?

I hear him before I see him, his voice all sharp edged and irritated. I smile as I put my cigarette out; my Master is so emotional. He seems to be talking to an older girl with a sweet piping voice. I call out his name and he stops in his tracks, a glow brightens his cheeks with a blush. He gives me a packet of photos…pictures of our first meeting…my Master thought of _me_ and brought me pictures of us…together…I-I am so happy. He is looking at me again with those eyes and with that blush on his cheeks. My heart flutters in my chest. Those eyes want so much…dangerous, that look…it begs for someone to be his everything…

I am called away from my musings by Ritsuka voice. He asks me if I have time for him. I can't help but smile at him, amused. I am his Fighter and he is my Sacrifice, all he needs is but command me and I would obey…but my Master asks me. Heh. For him, I have all the time in the world. Then he says the words that I knew I would hear; he wants me to explain…

In the blink of an eye, my Master is attacked! The girl Ritsuka was talking to throws herself on my small Sacrifice. I stand, stunned, unsure of what I am supposed to do. Am I to protect him from overly affectionate little girls? If it bad been a boy, I would have pulled them off Ritsuka without another thought, unless ordered otherwise…but this…I am not sure where it is safe to grab. Maybe I should wait for my Master to order my assistance…

In a muddle of sharp elbows, full breasts, and tearful eyes, I find all three of us heading to the house of one very jubilant and determined Yuiko. One day, this little girl is going to have half the school wrapped around her little finger. I follow behind Ritsuka, who is half-dragged half-led by his young friend. The two of them stop at a convenience store. They want to get food here? No. Absolutely not. What could _possibly_ be good for you to _eat_ at such a place? I have never eaten anything that wasn't wholesome and cooked to fit the nutritional needs of this body. A brief flitting image of my stash of beer and vodka came to mind…but I am not a growing teenager anymore! I offer to cook for all of us…after all Ritsuka is small for his age, he should eat better.

Yuiko-kun lets us into her home and I set to work locating ingredients and finding pans in an unfamiliar kitchen. It is only after I start to gather everything that Ritsuka thinks to scold me for bending the prohibition on using the stove. I can't help but smile. I am a complete stranger to this girl, who has invited us into her home, and an unknown factor to my young Master and he thinks to scold me for _cooking_? These two defenseless children should be more concerned over inviting strange men into remote places than me providing a bad example for bending well-intentioned rules. His scowl is more cute than fierce as I tell him so.

I cook for my master and for the girl who allowed us into her home. I fix us chicken and burdock much to the disinterest of Ritsuka. He tells me he prefers Big Macs…ugh. I explain he needs to train his senses, sharpen them to experience more. I try to teach him about the link between the organs and the senses. Maybe I shouldn't have brought up how the tongue can be used for smell and taste and how sensitive it can be. I simply meant to illustrate a point as to how sensitive it can be…why it can ache if it gets bitten. My stomach flutters as he looks at me with innocent eyes and asks why anyone would bite a tongue. My mind goes to dark and wet places of two mouth fused together and the wet, slick, slide of tongues punctuated with the soft scrape of teeth and the exhilarating nip of gentle bite…I force myself to reply casually that it may not be all that bad to be bitten. He looks at me in confusion. I…I think it best to abandon this for now.

After dinner and cleaning up so that Yukio's parents will have no need to reprimand their daughter, Ritsuka and I depart. The air is cool and crisp. I pull my scarf more secure around my throat and ask my Master if he is cold. He looks up at me with those wanting eyes and tells me no. I can see the fine shiver that dances over his skin and pull him close as I walk him home, the heat from my body warms him through the layers between us and brings him some ease. He doesn't push me away…My Master leans into me as if I provide him some small comfort and asks his question again. He bids me to explain.

I give him what small amount I have been left to give him. I tell him that I am the only one that can fight the one who killed Seimei. I cannot tell him of the Seven Moons; I am forbidden to tell him of those who will come to try to take him. Instead, I give all that I have to offer. I tell him I love him. I ask if he wants to kill the ones who killed Seimei. I would do that for him. I do not know who I am thinking of with that thought…whether it is Ritsuka, or Seimei…

I am pulled from these thoughts by my Master demanding to know if I know who killed Seimei. I don't know…I can only guess…but I am not allowed…I evade the impossible question and instead offer a question of my own. Seimei's will. Has he looked looked for it? I try and explain in broad strokes, leaving the details for another time, what it is to be part of a Pair. I tell him a small part of what it is to be a Sacrifice…and what will happen to him. I tell him he will hurt and he will feel pain; I ask him if he can bear the suffering he will experience. His beautiful eyes widen and I see everything he is hiding there. He already has known pain, both of the body and the soul; it is scribed there for anyone who knows the lettering to read. He looks away from me, to hide his shame and keep his secrets from spilling out into the cold night. He tells me _yes_, but I already know. I have seen the answer in his lilac eyes and he knows it too well.

His house is there, shrouded in darkness with only one light illuminating a solitary window. He leaves me to race toward his home. Ritsuka did not bid me go home and he did not order me not to follow…I stand in the empty street, torn between what I think my Master _might_ want of me and what I _want _to do. As I stand in the darkening road, I hear a commotion from Ritsuka's house. A female is calling his name, shrill and tainted with violence and yet it has a pathetic, pleading edge. The sound grates my nerves like that of nails run across a blackboard. I remember the bandages and the bruises that are scattered across my young Master's small frame and _know_ who is the cause. This woman is the one who put the shadows in Ritsuka's eyes.

My feet are moving before I am aware of it. I already know from my previous scouting which room is his; I can see he has already turned the light on in his room. I walk to the bars hanging beneath his room, with minimal effort; I manage to pull myself up onto his balcony. Ritsuka is already bent over the computer in his room, his delicate features set in line of impatience. Now that I am standing with only the thin barrier of a glass door between me and my Master, the pounding of the woman on his bedroom door is an assault on the senses…and the whine of her voice as she calls his name…I do not know this woman yet but already I despise her.

I knock on the glass to capture his attention. He looks up at me with disbelieving eyes as he slides the door open to allow me entry. Did he really think that I would allow such a small obstacle to stand between me and my Sacrifice when he might need me? I have lost one Sacrifice because I was absent; I will not lose Ritsuka because I am not vigilant. I will not let his small shoulders bear the price for my weakness. I offer to quiet the woman. I offer to do anything he wishes to her. I silently offer to end his pain but he tells me that this woman is his mother and I am to leave her be. I cannot help looking at the door she is pounding on with a sense of foreboding; it is such a flimsy barrier to protect such a fragile body. Is it safe for my Master to stay here? The bandage on his cheek would suggest otherwise.

Ritsuka calls to me as he types on the keyboard of the computer. He is trying to determine the password that will unlock Seimei's will. I pull a cigarette from the pack lurking in my pocket and bring it to my lips. My hands are only slightly unsteady as I light it. What will Seimei's will reveal? I know that in it, Seimei gives me to his brother…where once I was filled with bitterness at yet again being handed down like the damaged goods that I am, I find I do not mind being owned by Ritsuka. I think he might need me. He does not have a Fighter of his own and a spell-battle is the only way he can ever confront anyone from the Seven Moons.

My Master asks me to tell him once again what his true name is. I take a deep drag of my cigarette before telling. **Loveless**. Ritsuka's destiny is to be known as **Loveless**. He makes a disgruntled noise and questions what fates would give such an awful name. I cannot help the small curl of my lip as I wonder as I often have at the cruel twists and turns of destiny. They are the same fates that decreed that I was not deserving of a name of my own but only fit for the left over bits and pieces doled out by what ever Sacrifice was willing to claim me.

**Loveless**…it unlocks the sparse secrets of Seimei's will. Even here, Seimei refuses to give up his intrigues. I do not learn anything I did not already know but the contents seem to surprise Ritsuka. He did not seem to know that I once belonged to Seimei. His voice, so powerful as he demands to know if Seimei sent me to him. His voice…it seems to change something within me. I tell him yes. The answer is obvious and Ritsuka can read it for himself. I was given to him. My Master's voice wavers when he asks if Seimei told me to love him. His voice…I close my eyes to savor the sound of the voice which will control me. The slight treble of it as it demands…the feel of his command…almost a physical sensation as if an instrument's string has been plucked. I vibrate to the sound of his voice. **SOUBI**, my Master calls my name sharply. He trembles with the force of his demand that I answer him, did Seimei order me to love him. All I can answer him is…yes.

Ritsuka questions me. Do I love him because Seimei told me to…yes. Do I obey everything Seimei told me to do? ...yes. My young Master might as well have asked me if the sun rises in the east. It is not a question of if but a matter of when. I will always obey Seimei…even when he is no longer here to command me…I will obey, to the end, those orders that I have still remaining to cling to. Seimei gave me to Ritsuka…therefore I will have new orders to obey, but Seimei is my god, I cannot go against his commands simply because he is not standing here before me.

My words. They hurt Ritsuka. I can hear the tears in his voice. He is so emotional. I am more used to my owners being more bloodless beings. I do not want to hurt him; so I tell him I love him. Oh, how he trembles. He yells his denial of my words, rejecting them. Even now, he is so alive. I remind him that I alone can fight for him. I am the only one who can stand as his Fighter against the ones that took Seimei away from us. He is lost in his own dark musings and in his own grief. I slip from the room to give his what privacy I can. Tonight I am not the one that can ease his pain…and witnessing his, it calls to the dark shadows of my memories that long for a freedom I cannot give them. I exit by way of the balcony railing, dropping lightly to the street below. I light another cigarette as I look up at his room to see his silhouette still sitting at his desk. It is enough for tonight.

I walk back to my apartment. I remember to stop at the store to pick-up several rolls of bandaging for my throat and other things for my First Aid kit. I have a feeling I will be engaging in more battles in the near future and it is best to be prepared. The streets are dark and lined with lights as I climb my steps to my apartment. I drop my small bag on to the counter before opening the fridge to get a cold can of beer. I long to lie on my bed and contemplate the happenings of the day but the student exhibition is soon…I walk over to pull an empty canvas from the stack by the wall…as I prepare my paints, I can almost hear the cruel fates laughing at me…

A/N- Sorry to leave notes before and after like this. I am unsure if I should continue with this story. I would like to hear what my few readers have to say… If this story is to continue, I could seriously use a beta who is willing to read it before it is posted. I have no one I know who is even currently willing to proofread anything about Loveless. Anyone who feels qualified and interested please let me know.


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